


Postal

by Tsume_Yuki



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Rigel Black Chronicles
Genre: F/M, Female Harry Potter, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, One-Sided Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26586337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsume_Yuki/pseuds/Tsume_Yuki
Summary: In a world where Leo uncovers the ruse at the end of Fourth Year, Draco experiences a sudden shock during his Fifth Year.Or, in which Leo is a post owl, Rigel is comfortable and Draco doesn't (want to) like it.
Relationships: Harriet Potter/Leo Hurst
Comments: 16
Kudos: 148
Collections: Rigel Black Exchange Round 2





	Postal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettyPinkCupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyPinkCupcake/gifts).



> Because you ship Leo/Harry (which this is... if you squint a little)

_“Psst.”_

It’s a perfectly normal day. The late September sun is shining, the Hogwarts halls are alive with magic, and the First Years are terrified of Uncle Severus. Everything is exactly as it should be. The ruckus from the Triwizard Tournament has died down, Rigel has told the tales of his world tour often enough that others have stopped asking after it, and Draco can now enjoy some quality time with his two best friends in the entire world.

He very determinedly ignores how his eyes can linger on Pansy’s rear in her running gear (it wouldn’t be an unwise match, that is for sure, but it would be… awkward) as they walk back towards the dungeons. One doesn't need to mention that, despite his best efforts, he still looks to Rigel too.

The Room of Requirement had provided them with a training room far more advanced than anything found outside of very specific locations in London, a swimming pool far superior to the lake they’d been jogging around but never quite swam in. It’d created currents that they could swim against, capable of adapting to their needs and Draco can still feel the burn in his muscles. That they'd all been in separate 'tanks' is understandable; Pansy is a girl and Rigel is, well, Rigel. 

He can also feel the content satisfaction that’s oozing out of Rigel’s pores. After the fiasco of last year, it’s nice to see his friend relaxing, nice to see him looking more comfortable in his own skin. Not quite comfortable, but certainly more comfortable than he was by the end of the Tournament last year.

That Rigel won is hardly a surprising outcome, but there are no doubt some plebians out there who doubted him.

“How long will you be absconding from us for your potions, Rigel?” Pansy asks, her voice light as a breeze and pleasant like a chime.

Their third blinks, a slow movement that fails to hide the flat calculation in those grey eyes. So many times, Draco has looked upon Rigel Black and wondered just what goes on inside his head. Half the time, his emotions don’t match up with the face he wears, he reacts ridiculously to some choice words and… well, his political learnings are becoming more and more apparent.

The very aggressive move he’d made against Lord Riddle during his world tour had made that clear enough (and made the society pages for the rest of summer). But, given his family connections, Draco can’t quite blame him.

Draco also can’t blame him for how he’d refused a relationship last year. Even though part of him still isn’t over it, he’s older now, more mature. He can recognise why Rigel wouldn’t have been able to commit, not when the Party is so against everything Rigel holds close. Their whole relationship would have become strained, would have stretched and snapped under the tension. Draco’s not oblivious; he knows that, if Rigel had decided to go for it, the boy would’ve tried. And, perhaps some part of him is still too childish because there’s a voice in his mind that insists Rigel could have made it work, if he really wanted to.

But, the truth is, Draco doesn’t weigh as highly to Rigel Black as the Potter girl. There’s a closeness there that he just isn’t privy to and, no matter what Lord Riddle asks of him through the mouthpiece of his father, Draco cannot get between that. Not because he couldn’t try, but because Rigel would never allow that of him.

So, they remain in limbo instead.

“I had an hour scheduled in,” Rigel muses, his tone just as bland as always.

He’s cut off from continuing though, by the low hiss of a voice, enunciating no clear words but a sound used to attract someone's attention without alerting anyone else.

It has failed, if that wasn’t obvious already.

Draco turns at the same time as Rigel, spying the intruder by an open window. Tanned forearms are folded across the sill, a somewhat handsome face nestled between them. Good Merlin, who is this hanging outside a Hogwarts window? No, he can’t be hanging outside the window, Draco realises as he takes stock of their current position (second floor, east side). The fool must be standing on the wall somehow. And he’s too old to be a Seventh Year, so who-

“Leo?” And, of course, Rigel knows the stranger.

Sharing a look with an equally blank faced Pansy, Draco watches as Rigel walks- no. As Rigel near floats over to the window where the stranger, this ‘Leo’ character, is pulling himself up into the corridor with nary a care in the world. The very way in which he presents himself is near scandalous; loose-limbed and charming grin and- open arms. He’s opened his arms and Rigel has stepping willingly into them.

Jealously zings through Draco more surely than any curse in the Duelling Club has ever managed to do so. Rigel hasn’t balked at the contact, has willingly walked into it and there’s no hesitation in the other’s emotions. Right before Rigel packed them away in his head as usual. No, it’d been enough for Draco to get a flavour of relief, excitement and genuine adoration dispersing into the world from his best friend.

His best friend who has never so much as mentioned a ‘Leo’ before.

“Rigel? Who is this?”

Rigel blinks at Pansy, drawing back and out of the intruder’s arms but seems utterly unbothered by the fact that the older boy has kept one arm slung across his shoulders. Rigel’s not particularly tall; it’s no bother for this Leo to keep the Black Heir under his arm in a philistinely uncommon manner. It’s a disgrace but, based on the intruder’s emotions (given Rigel has ever so helpfully locked his away; if Draco didn’t know his friend was a Parselmouth, he’d think there’s a bloodline talent that lets him know when others are trying to use mental gifts on him), this behaviour is common.

This open affection between them is common.

Draco aggressively ignore how that stings.

“Pans, this is Lionel Hurst. He’s the son of the Aldermaster of the Potions Guild. Leo, this is Heiress Pandora Parkinson and Heir Draco Malfoy.”

Well, that explains how Rigel knows him at least; potions nutcase that he is. Doesn’t explain the easy camaraderie though.

“A pleasure,” Lionel Hurst declares with a roguish grin, sweeping his hand behind his back in an easy bow and with a smile just a shade too mischievous to be proper but just a shade shy of being offensive. Tricky bastard. “I won’t keep you from your education for long. I’m afraid I’m just a lost owl at the moment who is quite unsure of where to go.” He blinks, hazel eyes alight with mirth and Draco wouldn’t have been able to suppress the scowl even if he wanted to.

“Surely no one would ask someone who seems as capable as you to act as a postal owl,” Pansy simpers, the deceit and intrigue curling off her form and Draco determinedly doesn’t smile. Who is he to upset her little games, after all?

Hurst looks at her, small smile still on his lips as he cocks his head in agreement.

“Alas, my lady, the Aldermaster’s request just so happened to align with mine. I wanted to see what my good friend Rigel was up to.” Hurst grins, pulling Rigel just that little closer to his side and it’s an odd thing indeed to see their non-tactile friend so at ease with physical contact.

“I can take you to Professor Snape,” Rigel offers, tearing his gaze away from Hurst in order to give them an ever so slightly apologetic smile. “I’ll catch up with you both later.”

Draco tries to ignore the sting, the jealousy that comes with the blatant proof that Rigel has a life outside of them. He tries to ignore it, to not think on it too much because what does Hurst know? He wasn’t there for the Triwizard Tournament, wasn’t there for Rigel during the Chamber predicament and there to help pick up the pieces after that bastard Pettigrew.

He tries, truly he does.

But it’s hard.

Especially when he spots Hurst once again at the window, hanging half in and half out, just like he was when they spotted him that morning. It’s hard when Rigel leans forward to plant a shallow kiss on the crown of Hurst’s brow. It’s hard to ignore the easy, comfortable way they touch each other, something Rigel has never once done with any of them.

Even when Pansy interrogates their best friend and Rigel admits that ‘Leo’s magic is like his’, it's hard. What does that even mean? 'Magic like his'. But Draco could feel the truth of that statement.

So, as Pansy accepts the closeness between Hurst and Rigel, Draco just, can’t. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

But he’ll try.

Because Rigel’s his best friend who deserves to feel comfortable.

Even at the detriment of discomforting Draco himself.


End file.
